


Tortured Soul

by spocksbrowneyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, And it's already out of control and way more than 5 things, Angst, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Fluff, Hurt James T. Kirk, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Insecure Spock (Star Trek), James T. Kirk Loves Spock, James T. Kirk is a Good Friend, Loneliness, Lonely Spock (Star Trek), M/M, Past Character Death, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Sad Spock (Star Trek), Slow-ish burn, Spock Has Feelings (Star Trek), Spock Loves James T. Kirk, Spock Needs a Hug (Star Trek), Spock is a Mess (Star Trek), The Crew Ships It, Unrequited Love, Vulnerable Spock (Star Trek), YoU TaKE ThAT BaCK, but not really., no.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksbrowneyes/pseuds/spocksbrowneyes
Summary: Silence speaks louder than words, and Jim is sick of it.The many times Spock was quiet and Jim didn't do anything, and the one time he did.Based on the song "Tortured Soul" by Chord Overstreet.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, Past Amanda Grayson/Sarek, Past Spock/Nyota Uhura - Relationship
Comments: 24
Kudos: 171





	1. Baby Doll Keeps Me Up At Night, I Fell In Love With Your Soft Brown Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading this fic! This is basically a 5 + 1 fic that got way out of hand and my first time writing unrequited love with the boys (or anyone) so bare with me if I fuck it up. Also, because I have never done anything like this before, if you have anything that you want to see in this fic, leave it in the comments and I will definitely consider it. Thank you and have a good morning, evening, afternoon, or whatever time it is where you are.

Jim had noticed something with Spock. He wasn’t one for the rec rooms after shifts, nor the little parties they had every now and then to celebrate upcoming holidays and whatnot. He wasn’t one for a loud scene nor crowds. Spock could often be found on the observation deck or in the labs if he wasn’t in his quarters, but he was always alone. Jim didn’t know if he felt lonely per se, but he seemed like it. Sometimes he wondered if Spock really did feel that way but didn’t realize just how much. He wasn’t sure if it was his own far more extroverted personality that made him think that or want to reach out to his First, but he still kept the thought in his head.

Spock was quiet, only talking when necessary. Once the  _ Enterprise _ had been rebuilt after Kahn’s blight, their quarters were next to one another, connected by a single bathroom, like the rest of the quarters. It was kind of weird, Spock’s quarters were standard size but Jim still had his Capitan’s quarters. That aside, Jim’s prediction was proven correct, Spock was quiet on the bridge and in his own time. He kind of wished that one day Spock would have someone over and he could hear even a low murmur of him talking to someone. Well, someone other than Sarek, who only called because he was the Vulcan equivalent of mad at Spock.

But, there was one thing. Jim had just been going to sleep when he heard a soft melody, drifting through the thin walls. It didn’t sound like it was being played off of a computer, but like it was being created right there, right on the other side of the wall. The notion of falling asleep was lost on Jim, he didn’t want to, he couldn’t. It was such a beautiful sound like it truly was floating through the air, surrounding him like a gentle mist. The focus that Jim had on the sound would usually keep him up for hours, but when crossed with the almost haunting sound, he fell asleep quickly.


	2. I Toss and Turn Almost Every Night, Insomnia Is Hard Enough To Fight

The door to Jim’s quarters slid open and he walked in. It had been a long day, they’d been on a diplomatic mission for the whole of it. It was nice to know that leaders cared about what they were going into rather than just signing up and going with it, but good god were they tiring. Question after question, they were digging deeper and deeper. Even Spock looked a bit intimidated but the intensity. He slid off his shoes and threw them by the door. He slid open the bathroom door so he could take a shower when he realized it was quiet. It felt like something was missing, he hadn’t heard the haunting melody more than once though. And yet something about that melody, it was like Spock in a way. Calm, mysterious, and entrancing. Addicting too, Jim already missed it. He sighed though, he didn’t know why Spock did it in the first place. He heard it once in the 6 months they’d been back on the ship, he honestly didn’t know if he would ever do it again.

Jim wondered if it wasn’t so much the sound as it was knowing Spock was on the other side of the wall, just being himself. He wished he knew what that meant for the half-Vulcan. The crew was very open with each other, save for Spock. He always seemed to stay apart from everyone else, he was always closed off and aloof. Not in a rude or haughty way, but the way that made Jim wonder if he felt forlorn. The only time anyone on the bridge had said anything about him breaking his facade was (1) when Jim first set him off after Vulcan’s destruction and his mother’s death, which both men still felt bad about, and (2) after Jim’s death. Jim sometimes questioned if Spock knew just how passionately he felt. The only word that people could seem to describe Spock in when Jim died was intense. In every way, it was a war between rage and anguish, silence, and screaming. The sorrowful look on his First Officer’s face as he passed was vivid in Jim’s memory but nothing else in the moment. To think that someone as calm and stoic as Spock looking like that made Jim wonder just how much Spock suppressed whether or not it hurt him. 

\---

It had been 3 hours, 34 minutes, and 12 seconds since Spock had gone to bed with the intention of falling asleep and had so far failed to do so. He had attempted to mediate, only to find that he was too tired to enter the trance-like state. That wasn’t quite accurate, he was too tired to focus in order to do so. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to be faced with insomnia when his thoughts refused to be quiet. They surely weren’t cooperating tonight, they hadn’t been cooperating for a while now. Ever since Jim’s passing, things had changed. He’d felt alone, like he was overlooking something, missing a part of him. He hadn't been getting along with Nyota lately, it bothered him that he couldn’t be who she deserved. Spock didn’t know what to do anymore, he’d dug his lyre out of a box in his closet 2 nights ago and played it for the first time since Amanda’s passing. The sound was familiar, it reminded him of his mother, of Vulcan. The home he’d lost. It made him feel, it made him hurt. Yet he hadn’t stopped. He’d sat on the edge of his bed, playing into the night. Even as silent tears fell from his cheeks, and his fingertips hurt from plucking the strings, nor when some began to bleed. It brought up memories of Amanda’s voice, sweet and kind. The emotion her eyes always held, the same way his did. 

He wished he could relive the past while simultaneously yearning that he could be present. Live in the moment as Jim would say. And yet he couldn’t. He didn’t have a place in the social aspect of the crew, he simply didn’t fit. He was too Human for Vulcans and too Vulcan for Humans. He’d come to the conclusion that some people are simply meant to be isolated, and he happened to be one of them. He’d put his lyre back where it’d been for months before he’d attempted to fall asleep, he wanted to play it again, but he didn’t have the energy for it. He wished he did, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the second chapter! Now is probably a good time to mention that I do not have much of an update schedule, so expect new chapters whenever I can make something just a bit better than a figurative dumpster fire. Anyway, thank you, and see you whenever I'm productive next.


	3. Whiskey Taste Is On My Breath, Part Of Me Is Scared To Death

The air was tense, nothing like it used to be. Things had been rough as of late, and Spock had a feeling that it would come to this. Nonetheless, it bothered him. He felt like he’d failed, wasted Nyota’s time. She was a good woman, kind and forgiving but brave and independent. She deserved somebody better. The silence was heavy, they were facing each other but not making eye contact. 

“Spock…” 

“It is logical for you to pursue whatever course of action makes you content. I do not wish to hold you back any further,” he said softly.

“It’s not your fault. You’ve never done anything like that.”

“Who is at fault is unimportant as there is no blame to be distributed,” Spock stated, “You are unhappy in such a way I cannot assist you in. It is logical for you to desire a more suitable partner. It would be unacceptable for me to deny you of that necessity.”

Uhura looked into his eyes, they were intense and solid as usual, but there was a softness to them, they looked dejected. She stood on her toes and put a soft kiss to his cheek but pulled away.

A sad smile came to her lips, “Thank you. It’s been nice. I don’t regret it.”

Spock bowed his head a bit, “It has been most pleasant.”

Nyota nodded softly and they fell back into silence, averting their eyes away from one another. They stood around for all of a minute when Uhura kissed him one last time. Her touch lingered on Spock’s forearm for a moment, but then she turned away and left. Spock stood still, now all alone. He didn’t regret the time they’d spent either, and he knew that she would be happier elsewhere. Yet even while knowing that, there was an ache in his chest, familiar and growing stronger. He’d lost yet another person, all while never leaving their side. 

\---

Jim focused on the chessboard in front of them, trying to determine his next move. There were a few he could still make but wasn’t sure which would work most in his favor. He had a way of being unpredictable but still prevailing at the game. However, Spock’s intellect greatly rivaled his and he had a logical set of moves that Jim hadn’t recognized yet. Playing against the half-Vulcan was nothing short of a challenge, but the same went for Spock. Jim was not an easy person to defeat. Jim ultimately decided on the move that Spock would least expect, it would either greatly help him, or be his downfall.

“Your move,” Jim said.

Spock seemed to snap out of a haze, observing what Jim had done and decided his own move. Jim watched as Spock did so, he looked focused, but it didn’t seem to come as easy as it usually did. It seemed like something was on his mind. Jim was close enough to his First Officer that he could decode his expressions, basically, he’d learned how to read Spock’s eyes. He could steel all of himself save for his eyes, they always peeked through his facade. He was still working on figuring out Spock’s body language, it was much more difficult than the latter. However, in his observation, he’d realized that Spock had a number of nervous ticks, some more obvious than others. The subtly of the action depended on how much stress he was under. Right now, Spock’s eyes seemed blank, which Jim had come to know as a sign that something was bothering him. It took a lot for Spock to keep emotion hidden from them, and he consciously had to focus on doing so. Jim noticed that he was pulling at his sleeves a bit along with biting his lip.

“Spock?” Jim got his attention, “Are you okay? You seem like something’s bothering you.”

He seemed distracted, but Jim didn’t say that. If there was one thing that made Spock freak out, it was knowing that he’d let something slip and affect his productivity.

“I am adequate,” Spock said, a bit too quickly.

He moved one of his pieces and Jim immediately recognized a fault that he could use to his advantage. He moved one of his rooks to take advantage of it.

“You sure? You seem a bit down. If there’s anything you need to get off your chest I’m here,” Jim reminded him.

Spock raised a confused eyebrow, “I do not take your meaning.”

“Well, like,” Jim shrugged, “You can talk to me if something’s upsetting you. Getting something off your chest. To talk about something that’s bothering you, that’s what that phrase means.”

“Fascinating,” Spock mused.

\---

Jim was walking from the mess back to his quarters, contemplating the time he’d spent with Spock that night. It wasn’t like him to be nervous during their chess games, nor to perform the way he did. He knew something was upsetting him, but he didn’t know what. It didn’t seem like something he’d done, Spock had seemed a bit off since the moment he walked in the room. Throughout the entire time, he’d been zoning out, like he was getting stuck in his head. Spock had a mysterious character that Jim didn’t entirely understand along with an undisclosed personal life and past. It made him a hard man to connect with, but as his best friend, Jim tried as hard as he could.

Ironically enough, Jim had gotten lost in his thoughts, only broken out of it as he collided with someone in the hallway.

He looked to see Uhura, equally as startled as him.

She tightened her ponytail, “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t either,” Jim shrugged it off, “Where are you headed?”

Nyota gestured down the hall, “Mess, we had a Communications meeting that ended a bit ago but we decided to make a night out of it. I’m getting snacks.”

Jim nodded, “A sleepover next to engineering. What fun.”

Uhura jokingly elbowed him, “We’re in a rec room dimwit.”

Jim laughed, “I’d hope so because you’ll never get any sleep between a metal floor and warp core.”

Nyota gave him a smile and turned to leave, then an idea popped into Jim’s head.

“Uhura!”

She turned around, “Yeah?”

“I was wondering if you’ve talked to Spock at all today,” his eyebrows knitted a bit, “He’s seemed kind of down and I was wondering if you know what’s up.”

There was an uncomfortable atmosphere that set in, and Jim started to wonder if asking the question was a mistake. 

She sighed, “We broke up earlier today. I guess more so made it official that we broke up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Jim apologized, half for the question and the other for the circumstance.

Nyota shrugged, “Thanks. I’m happy he has you help him through it.”

Jim scratched at the back of his neck, “I’ll try my best but you know how he is. It’s too bad we won’t have our power couple anymore.”

Uhura had a glint of something Jim didn’t recognize in her eyes, “Another one will come. I’m sure of it.”

\---

Spock looked up at the ceiling as he laid awake, glancing across the room at the closet where he’d stored his lyre after last night. His fingers still hurt from what was now the second time he’d played it in nearly a year. Jim had been right. Something was bothering him, predictably so. However, Nyota was better off, and as she needed more emotional support than he did, letting her go was logical. He felt that he shouldn’t have to let her go in a sense, she didn’t need his permission, he didn’t control her. He never did, and nobody ever should. It was something that always perplexed him when it came to relationships.

What confused him more was how he felt. It always did, but this was different. He’d felt so lonely as of late, and yet in the face of what he was going through, the void didn’t intensify, it didn’t grow smaller, but it didn’t get bigger either. He came to wonder if he ever really loved her, or if he had been lying to her the whole time. Lying to himself as well. Maybe he really didn’t feel love. Maybe the insults Jim had yelled at him the day they met were true. Maybe he really didn’t feel anything. Perhaps it was why he hadn’t touched his lyre for months, he was simply trying to take away the pain of knowing that he never truly cared but refusing to accept it.

\--- 

As Jim laid down to go to sleep that night, there was no song, there wasn’t the beautifully mysterious sound of strings being plucked as there had been the night before. He knew something had been up, and he knew Spock was a very private person but nonetheless, he wanted to be there for him. He himself hadn’t been in any relationship quite like theirs but he had far more social experience than Spock. He just wished then he could help him for once. 

The low rumble of the engines pushing them into the unknown was the only sound in the dark. Feeling a bit disappointed in himself, Jim drifted off to sleep, wondering how he could let Spock know that he wasn’t alone and just how much he cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's Chapter 3. Obviously. I hope you enjoyed it and that you for reading. If you have any feedback or something you'd like to see in the story, I'd love to hear it and might end up putting it in depending on what it is (Basically, I cannot write smut if my life depended on it). So, have a good morning, afternoon, evening, night, whatever, and I'll see you later.


	4. What if I Told You the Truth? But I Chase you Down With 90 Proof

Jim couldn’t see a foot in front of him. The ash streaming through the air and dirt that was being kicked up by the chaos made the visibility almost non-existent. 

“Spock! Status report!” Jim yelled to his First.

“The instability within the atmosphere is hindering transporter capabilities,” Spock replied, his voice a bit rough as he wasn’t accustomed to speaking loudly, “Mr. Scott is attempting to strengthen the signal and has requested we stand by for further information.”

“Well, it’ll have to be quick because we can’t be he-”

A loud crack came as the ground split and shook, cutting Jim off. The quaking of the ground made Jim lose his purchase on the ground and fall backward into the fissure left gaping by the earthquake.

“Spock!” he yelled.

Jim felt a sharp tug on his arm which stopped his fall and didn’t have the time to be grateful before he hit the newly formed rock face, and everything went dark.

\---

The sound of beeping cut through Jim’s sleep. He twitched a bit, his senses coming back to him. He opened his eyes to see the white ceiling and the sterile smell of sickbay.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” a gruff voice came from his right, Bones.

“What are you going to do now?” Jim groaned, “No wait, let me guess, you’re going to keep me here until my corpse rots, that’s a step up from last time, isn’t it?”

“You must be feeling better,” Leonard huffed, “Already talking shit. And for your information, no, because I can’t deal with your First Officer.”

Jim’s mind rebooted at the mention of Spock’s position, the fall, everything, “Spock! Is he okay!?”

McCoy rolled his eyes, “Spock’s fine and unsurprisingly, so are you. Thanks to the weird blood in your veins and his reaction time.”

Jim pushed himself up, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” the doctor grunted, “But, you’re keeping your ass in that bed until morning and you’re not going back to duty until the day after tomorrow. Spock’s taking your shifts.”

“I thought you said I was fine,” Jim retorted.

“It’s not a matter of you being fine, it’s a matter of you being an idiot. Head injuries are tricky and I don’t need you overexerting yourself.”

Jim flopped back against the bed in a way similar to an indignant child. He glanced over at the chronometer as McCoy was most likely preparing a dozen hypos he’d missed.

“Bones, it’s 18:30!”

McCoy stuck him with a hypo, “And?”

“You want me to stay here all night and all of tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Leonard’s tone was hard, not offering any room for argument, “And I’ll sedate your ass if I have to.”

\---

It was too quiet in medbay. The beeping of monitors faded into the background as if they didn’t exist at all. Jim had Kahn’s blood in him after all, he was fine. He’d gotten injured that would have someone out for a week to heal before he could make medbay. He wanted to be in his quarters, falling asleep to the haunting melody of whatever instrument it was that Spock played, drifting through the walls. He didn’t fully understand how they’d gotten from being the worst of enemies to the most successful command team in the Federation, not to mention the youngest. That was what made Jim see Spock in a different light right after they officially became Capitan and First Officer. Spock was very young for a Vulcan, 27 in a lifetime that could stretch past 200. But what really prompted the change of heart, was all the things Jim knew he had lived through. He’d lost his planet and his mother, suffered the wrath of xenophobia from both halves of his heritage, and overall had a very shitty self-image. All those things had stuck with Jim, when he’d woken up in the hospital, the clock read 02:30 or sometime around then, looking to his right to see Spock next him, working on reports on his laptop, half asleep with his hair messy and tired shadows under his eyes. Nothing like he’d ever seen him before. Somehow, seeing him, knowing that Spock had watched him die, and seeing that he was still standing, it yielded a level of respect Jim had for nobody else. Whether or not he realized it, Jim found Spock’s presence comforting.

Jim sometimes wondered just how one man could experience so much darkness and corruption, right up in his face and slashing at him, yet still carry on no matter how much he bled. He made a promise to himself that whenever Spock wasn’t able to bear the weight of it anymore, he’d be right there to help. Maybe catch him before he hit the ground if he was lucky. Part of Jim felt like he wasn’t doing enough to prevent that. 

\---

Spock read the text on his PADD, the light from the device made his eyes hurt. It was late and the haze of tiredness was fogging his mind. He was sure he was reading the same sentence on repeat. He was sure he was reading the same sentence on repeat.

“Good god, you’re still awake?”

The sudden voice almost made Spock jump, almost. He looked up to see McCoy.

“Doctor. Can I assist you in some way?”

Leonard looked at the desk where he was working, his laptop off to the side with 3 PADDs stacked next to it, and 1 in front of him which he was working on. He hadn’t been aware that Spock had an office but he’d never made a habit of going down into sciences, particularly biology. He personally found it a bit creepy with the purple light illuminating terrariums with hidden creatures as well as the nocturnal creatures who didn’t have the lights, but rather the only proof of their presence is their bright yellow eyes peeking through a dark blanket. Don’t even get him started on the sound, chittering, and squeaking without being able to see the source was chilling to him.

“What are you doing?” McCoy demanded, “It’s 23:00, you’ve had a ridiculously stressful and tiring day, and you’re sitting here doing… whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“I am working on reports that cannot be subject to procrastination.”

Leonard furrowed his brow, “Since when did taking care of yourself equal procrastination?”

“I stated such a thing,” Spock said, his voice monotone.

Leonard rolled his eyes, “You implied it with your choice of words.”

“Also, why do you have the lights off? You’ll ruin your eyes,” he criticized.

“Can I assist you with something doctor?” Spock pressed, his tone hard with an edge to it.

“Yeah, go the hell to sleep. You’re touchy when you’re stressed and tired.”

Spock flicked up an eyebrow, “I do not physically harass others when I do not rest. Furthermore, I am not in need of rest as Vulcans require far less sleep than Humans.”

“Well might I remind you, you’re half Human. Half of you could use 8 hours of sleep a night. A crash course in conversational language wouldn’t hurt either,” McCoy huffed, turning the light on, “And neither would turning a goddamn light on.” 

Spock glided over to him and turned the light off, “Doctor McCoy, unless you are interested in assisting me in calming an Orion Badger after being startled awake then I must request that you do not change the lighting.”

“Are you sassing me?”

Spock folded his hands behind his back, “An elaboration on your definition of ‘sassing’ would be most helpful in answering your query.”

“Just stop,” Leonard groaned, “Fine, I won’t stop you from fucking up your eyesight, but I will sedate your ass if you don’t take a break.”

Both men fell silent. Spock didn’t have much of a counter-argument, he hadn’t told anyone about the difficulty he’d had sleeping and meditating as of late so there wasn’t much he could explain without laying himself bare, a notion he hated passionately. As for McCoy, he wasn’t sure of what to say either. He knew Spock was worried about Jim and taking over was never easy, no matter how short the time was. Jim was an excellent Capitan and Spock was an excellent First Officer. However, Spock had multiple jobs, he was Cheif Science Officer, First Officer, and temporarily Capitan. Leonard had to admit, Spock deserved some serious respect. He didn’t know anyone with his persistence or work ethic nor the patience to deal with Jim’s antics 24/7. But, it definitely had a negative impact on his health. He had little to no personal time and never took shore leaves. Leonard couldn’t count the nights he knew Spock went without sleep and couldn’t fathom the amount he wasn’t aware of.

Overall, Spock was a medical disaster. He had tons of unresolved trauma, kept everything he felt inside of him, he’d been anemic since the day McCoy first ran a blood test on him, and was almost always sleep-deprived to some extent. The trauma was the hardest thing to deal with because he didn’t open up to a therapist enough to do anything. Leonard had tried setting him up with the ship’s psychologist but they had one session and never spoke again. The first time he’d really seen any of it surface was when he was waiting for Jim to wake up. Spock had been at the hospital every day, waiting for Jim to come back to them. There had been this sorrow, this aching feeling that seemed to emanate from him. It was heavy and Leonard couldn’t imagine how exhausting it was to carry. Ever since that whole mess, Spock wouldn’t leave Jim’s side on away missions, and now those times on the ship were growing far and few between. There was something between them. Leonard could tell, hell, the whole crew could tell.

Jim and Spock had been “just friends” for a while. But Spock wasn’t one to get so attached to people and Jim wasn’t one to have as many platonic relationships as he did now. “Just friends” don’t look at each other the way they did. “Just friends” don’t risk their lives for each other the way they did. “Just friends” don’t talk about each other the way Jim talked about Spock. “Just friends” didn’t worry about each other the way Spock worried about Jim.

“How’s your wrist?” Leonard asked, breaking the silence.

Spock looked at the brace on his arm, assisting in the healing of the sprain, “It is fine.”

McCoy rolled his eyes, “You’re really vague when you’re missing your boyfriend.”

“Pardon?”

“Jim. You’re incredibly vague and unhelpful in your feedback when he’s not around,” Leonard clarified.

Spock furrowed his brow slightly, “My relationship with the Capitan is entirely platonic.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Just go to sleep will you?”

“I will endeavor to do so.”

Leonard looked at him, his expressionless face didn’t give him the slightest clue as to whether or not he’d follow through with that. He left the room, he didn’t really feel like going back and forth right now and really didn’t want to hang around all the creepy sounds longer than he had to. Spock went back to his desk after the doctor left. He turned on the PADD, the reports and work he still had to do awaiting him. Spock sighed, there would be no sleep tonight. He had a feeling that even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, would you look at that. A dumpster fire.
> 
> Uh, so, this was a very badly written chapter. I want to thank you very much for wasting your time reading it because, uh, yeah. Anyway, I'm sorry for the wait and crappy writing, I'll try to do better next chapter, and again, I'm sorry. Btw, have a happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate.


	5. One More Sip For A Tortured Soul, You're Diggin' My Heart In A Deeper Hole

There was a heaviness in Spock’s chest. Like a deep wound, a cavern in the little love he still felt being choked off by a wall of melancholy. It was dark and cold, an endless night in which he couldn’t seem to get warm, a wicked chill buried in his bones. Constant and aching, reminding him of how little he knew and how little he mattered. Of how he couldn’t save the one person he claimed to love, of how he should have been the one on the edge, not her. Amanda never did anything to deserve such a fate. Falling to her death, into an abyss that had been marked by the unknown since the day of its discovery hundreds of years ago. She never did anything to deserve this day, this godforsaken day. The day marking that 2 years ago, she passed. That 2 years ago, her life, and the lives of billions, were taken by a madman.

\---

It felt as if something was hanging in the air when Jim turned to look at Spock. A somber feeling shrouding him. He hadn’t noticed it in anyone else, so he was able to put 2 and 2 together without any trouble. Spock was grieving the loss of his mother, as he had the year prior and as he probably would in the next. Last night, there had been no song, quiet in its place. Dead silence, more like. The kind of stillness that puts you on guard as you come to the conclusion that it is simply too much. Spock wasn’t a person who reminded Jim of chaos, quite the opposite actually. Yet as Jim had noticed lately, that calm wasn't tranquil. He didn’t know what it was, but I was something far darker and much crueler. Like it was holding him back. Maybe this was a chance to help him, Jim thought. Maybe if Spock would just let him get closer, he could help.

\---

Jim looked up from his PADD when he heard someone knock on the door of his ready-room. He figured it was Spock as he had asked him to meet him there around 17:00 just to talk. Taken by the fact that it was 17:00 exactly, not a second before or after, it was obvious that it was a work of the half-Vulcan’s impeccable timing. Jim got up and opened the door, surely enough, it was Spock.

“Hey. Come in,” Jim greeted him.

Spock gave him a short nod, bowing his head a bit as he went in. He stopped as soon as he was just inside, looking at Jim.

“You wished to discuss something Capitan?” Spock asked.

“Yeah,” Jim nodded, “I was just wondering if you’re alright.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, “I am fine Capitan.”

Jim’s eyebrows knitted a bit, barely noticeable, “You sure?”

Spock nodded, “Yes.”

They fell into silence, just looking at each other. Spock averted his eyes from Jim’s after a couple of seconds, he hoped Jim didn’t notice that he was tugging at the cuff of his sleeve. Jim hoped he wasn’t bothering Spock, this couldn’t be an easy thing for him. If he’d learned one thing about Spock, it was that for somebody who acts like he had no emotion whatsoever, he’s very sensitive. 

Jim put a supportive hand on his shoulder, and he felt Spock tense at the touch, “You can talk to me whenever. You know that right?”

Spock moved his hands to be at parade rest, gripping his wrist to the point it hurt in an attempt to push down anxiety, “I understand.”

Jim smiled, “Good. I’m always here if you need me.”

They stood in silence before Spock piped up a few seconds later, “Capitan? Would you please remove your hand?”

Jim dropped his hand from his friend’s shoulder, internally berating himself for it. How had he managed to forget that he was doing that? Spock was stiff as a board the whole time, how did he not notice how uncomfortable he was making his First?

“Sorry about that,” Jim apologized.

“It is not an issue,” Spock reassured him, internally wishing he’d never brought it up. Burning the feeling of being touched into his mind.

Quiet fell over them once more. Spock felt embarrassed, he’d shown himself enough to worry Jim. He’d spent his whole life fading in and out of phases, going into new things, things he didn’t understand, but never truly leaving the old ones. He could still feel the bite of rejection from his childhood, and the anxiety from when he left Vulcan for the first time. Now he felt like he was fading once more. Into love, love with his Capitan. Something he couldn’t have like everything and everyone he wanted. Because all he really wanted was a real home and a person he could be vulnerable with. Someone he knew wouldn’t judge him, no matter how emotional he may be. He had met so many people who were willing to be around him until he couldn’t hold in his pain anymore, and the shattering of his walls scared them. He didn’t blame them though. He hated it too. It was terrifying to know that he couldn’t suppress the darkest things inside of him. And it hurt knowing that the people who hated him for that couldn’t do it either. But they didn’t suppress anything and he did. Somehow, that made it different.

“Thank you for your offer Capitan,” Spock said just to break the heavy silence, “It is appreciated.”

Jim gave him a friendly smile, “Any time.”

Spock gave him a short nod. Jim thought that the quick, shy motion was quite endearing.

“I was planning on playing cards with Bones and Scotty tonight, do you wanna come?”

Spock bit the inside of his lip, he didn’t want to make Jim feel obligated to bring him along nor inconvenience Dr. McCoy. Leonard didn’t seem to like him very much. As for Scotty, they knew each other better than when they met but were not close. There was a tight feeling in his stomach as his mind reminded him that he wasn’t close to anyone.

“Politely, I must decline,” Spock said, minding his tone so he didn’t seem too eager to say no. He really did want to go, even though he had no idea how to play cards and wasn’t a fan of busy rec rooms. He really just wanted to be with Jim. Show he cared about him even though it was difficult to do.

“Okay,” Jim gave him a thumbs up, “It’s okay, I know you don’t really like loud places.”

Spock felt his cheeks warm a bit, Jim had paid that much attention? 

Jim noticed the light blush on Spock’s cheeks, “Anywho, I guess I won’t keep you here any longer. We’re gonna be in rec room 5 if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll probably just be in my quarters. So, anything you need, I’m around.”

“Understood,” Spock confirmed.

\---

Jim had been keeping an eye out for Spock the whole time. Looking around when he could for his friend.

“Jim,” Leonard nudged his arm, “Earth to Jim, it’s your turn.”

Jim looked back to what they were doing and played one of his cards.

“Who are ye lookin’ for?” Scotty asked. 

“What?” Jim came back into the moment as if he’d lost in another, “I’m not looking for anyone.”

“M-hm, sure,” McCoy hummed.

Jim put his hands up in mock defense, “I’m not!”

“Yer lookin’ around like ye lost somethin’.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “I am not. It’s not important.”

McCoy gave him a smirk, “You’re looking for Spock aren’t you?”

Scotty joined in, “Ooh, why are ye lookin’ for him?”

“Because he’s in love with him,” Leonard teased.

Jim flushed, “I never said that.”

McCoy raised his eyebrows, “Then why are you blushing? And why do you keep looking for him?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to look after my crew, right?”

Scotty chuckled, “And how exactly do ye plan do doin’ that with Mister Spock?”

“He’s not exactly the sociable type,” Leonard added, “You’ve been trying to get him to notice your crush on him for months.”

“I do not have a crush on him,” Jim pressed.

Scotty and McCoy bust out laughing.

“I do not! He’s my First Officer, that’s inappropriate!”

Jim grumbled to himself as his own mind chortled back at him.

“Since when have you given a fuck about whether stuff’s appropriate or not?” Leonard asked, trying and failing to catch his breath.

“Am I not allowed to change?”

“But it’s yer whole personality,” Scotty wheezed.

Jim looked at his friends soullessly as they continued to crack up. Sure, he knew good and well that he didn’t actually give 2 shits about whether or not the relationship was appropriate. Hell, it seemed like a Capitan being in a relationship with any crewmember would set Starfleet off.

\---

Spock had been attempting to meditate for approximately 2 hours, 34 minutes, and 0.08 seconds. He hadn’t gotten further than a very light state, his mind flashing the imagery of his mother’s last moments over and over. He opened his eyes once more to his dim room. He sighed in a distinctly un-Vulcan manner. Glancing over at the chronometer, the weight in his chest felt heavier. It was late, late like the many nights he’d had. Late enough that he shoulder be sound asleep for the time he would awake. Late enough that even the occasional drunken murmurs of crewmembers stumbling down the hallway with their equally intoxicated companions and sober guide had long since died away. Late enough that he was sure that once more, he would experience the strange feeling of being awake as today becomes yesterday and tomorrow take its place. 

Spock looked to the bathroom door that separated Jim’s room from his. The tightening of loneliness in his stomach came when the words Jim had spoken to him earlier played once more in his head.

_ “I’m always here if you need me.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. So, this dumpster fire may or may not be as long as I thought it was because today I was struck with the realization that, to put it bluntly, I have a shitty imagination but am too stubborn to put this on a hiatus. I've realized this before and managed to forget as I started another big project like this. So, I apologize for the mess and if you have anything you want to see, please leave it in the comments and I will seriously consider it because my guys, gals, and non-binary pals, I am stupid.


	6. And A Thousand Thoughts Through My Mind, Cigarettes Keep It Occupied

What Spock felt was much like how he had on the anniversary of his mother’s passing, only more grotesque. He’d lost Jim, yet he was right beside him. His Capitan had cheated death. Spock had cheated death. He felt as if he knew nothing at all. Nothing was real but nothing was fake. Like Amanda, Spock couldn’t save Jim from the hands of the reaper. And yet he had. After Jim had entered death’s domain, he had come back. And Spock had nearly killed a man out of rage. A rage that grew from the grief that came from sorrow, that came from Jim’s death. A rage similar to that which Jim had brought up in him the day they met. 

The anger that burned only to protect the people he loved. It was that day that Spock had realized how much he loved his mother. And on the other, he realized how much he loved Jim. Love that would never be returned. He came to the conclusion that he deserved it. He’d failed to show his affections, therefore a desire to have them returned was not only illogical but selfish. 

It was the day he realized he had lived and was living like a ghost. The day he realized he had no real home as he had nobody to make it one. He silenced himself so loudly that he shut out all the other voices. The voices of people who cared about him. The voices of the dead.

\---

It was late but Jim still had something he needed to do. He smiled at the few crewmembers he passed in the hallway. Other than their competence, what Jim was proudest of when it came to his crew was how tight-knit they were. He made an effort to be as welcoming as possible as most people found the people on Senior Command to be a bit daunting. The only person who had yet to truly become a part of the family-like dynamic was Spock. He wasn’t haughty so much as he was aloof. He didn’t think himself better than the rest of the crew for any reason, but he certainly was shy and extremely introverted. Jim wanted to talk to him about it, he wasn’t upset, he just wanted to know if there was anything he could do to make him feel more comfortable. That was his ultimate goal, to talk to his First Officer about maybe being a bit more social.

… and maybe something else.

Jim sighed to himself, Spock had been in a low mood the whole day. After all, today was traumatic for him. Luckily, Jim knew exactly where to find him. Observation room 2 on deck 1. He noticed that whenever Spock was upset, he always ended up there at some point. Jim came to the door, opening it and stepping in as quietly as he could.

Spock was sitting on the floor, looking out at the void. An endless black background and a stage set with stars. A mix of the illuminating white on navy and heliotrope dust. It looked like watercolors bleeding on a page. The light from the stars highlighted Spock’s sharper features, and Jim was once again proven wrong and that the half-Vulcan could be more beautiful than he always was. Jim doubted that anyone else could look so ethereal in the middle of the night. 

“Spock?”

He saw his First stiffen at the sound of his voice, turning his head to look at him, “Capitan-”

He moved to stand up, but Jim approached him, “We’re not on duty, you can drop the formality.”

Jim got down next to him, “I just wanted to talk to you. As friends.”

“I see.”

He turned back to look at the void. An uncomfortable pull at his heart with the presence of his Capitan.

“Capitan?” Spock’s voice was still flat, but it had a softness Jim had never heard before to it, “Are you coping adequately?”

Jim shrugged, “I’m doing good actually. I don’t really remember the moment all too well and from what I’ve noticed, I think that I’ve come out of it better than I went in.”

Spock nodded but looked back to the window. The feeling of Jim sitting next to him, mere inches apart, it felt like his skin was burning. The feeling in his chest, tight and cold, like a scalding chill. Part of him begging to open up, for once in his life let somebody in. But the other was screaming back, threatening to dig it’s already blood-stained claws into him, snarling at him that he didn’t deserve to be loved. That he’d just hurt them. That like everyone else they’d leave. And that like every other time he’d dared to get closer to someone, he’d deserve the outcome. Yet under that, the war between his Human and Vulcan halves, there was something small, a quiet ache. Hiding where the extremities didn’t go, where it wouldn’t be overcome by the waves of his Human side, but safe from the merciless cruelty of his Vulcan part. And from where it hid, it peeked out, whispering to him. Asking softly to give himself a chance. Asking him to be at peace with going into something he didn’t know. To put aside statistics and facts for a second. To look at the world in the moment, and as a whole.

To know that it was okay to be scared and that the people who really cared about him didn’t mind if he broke down in front of them, that the people who really cared would be at his side, through thick and thin. To understand that love does not make sense. To know that in order to be loved, he must give up control and take the jump into the unknown, to rely on faith for a moment. A delicate question that came down to asking for a chance at truly existing, as terrifying as it may be.

“Are you?” Jim asked, “Are you coping alright?”

_ “No,” _ Spock’s mind whispered to him,  _ “You are not coping at all.” _

“I am fine,” Spock lied.

Guilt cut through him, strengthening the tightness of his chest. He almost wondering if it would suffocate him. Vulcans didn’t lie. But he was protecting Jim… right? 

Jim’s eyebrows knitted, “You sure?”

“Yes,” the guilt bit in deeper, “It would be logical for you to avoid concern towards my person as it is not necessary.”

Jim wasn’t entirely sure what Spock meant, “You’re part of my crew Spock, I’m going to be concerned whether you like it or not.”

“Capitan, you ran the risk of having your position permanently revoked because of my actions,” Spock started.

“Nibiru?” Jim found it difficult to follow along with where his First was taking this conversation, he seemed anxious.

“Yes.”

“Which you did because of my actions. You were doing what you thought was right,” Jim interjected, “What does this have to do with me being worried about you?”

“You saved my life and I acted ungratefully in response. You risked something of great meaning to you so I could continue to exist.”

“And?” Jim wasn’t sure what Spock was trying to say. 

“I am wasting your sacrifice.”

Jim was confused, trying to put the pieces together when it came to him. The heartbreaking reality of his friend’s thoughts, “You think you don’t deserve my concern?”

Spock hesitated like the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say it. 

“It is not of importance. I apologize.”

The words were hollow. Because it was of importance. It was tearing at him all day and night. It was more than important. It was crucial, essential. It was more important than anything else he had to say. Because he didn’t think he deserved his concern. And he didn’t think he was worth the risks Jim had taken. Because he didn’t show how he felt. And he didn’t show how much he cared. He didn’t show Jim how much he loved him. The flutter in his stomach when they spoke, the warmth in his cheeks when their conversations turned personal, they begged him to take the words back. Because it was of importance. Of more importance than Spock himself knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da. I have managed to get an ending in sight and bring this back to being a 5+1 fic instead of a 7+1. If you have anything you want to see, leave it in the comments and I will definitely consider it. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.


	7. Damn Babydoll's Got So Much Light, But Damn Babydoll's Got So Much Fight

The sound of phaser fire was far too prominent over the screaming of the natives. A renegade group who had been upset by the leadership were taking advantage of the Federation’s presence, knowing that if anything happened, it would surely reach even the farthest stretches of the galaxy. 

Jim narrowly dodged a shot that came at him, jumping to the side in the nick of time, “Spock!”

He looked around frantically, “Spock! Commander!”

He caught a glimpse of the familiar dark blue uniform, crouched by what appeared to be a small child, who was soon approached and taken by a woman. She promptly fled with her child and the rest of the group. 

Jim beelined for his First Officer, “Spock!”

Spock whipped his head around, his face stoic as usual until he saw Jim. Jim felt a rush of unrest at the sight of the half-Vulcan’s wide eyes, a cross between dread and terror in them. He bolted towards him and the last thing Jim registered before hitting the ground was the force of Spock tackling him and the light of a phaser.

\---

Jim sat at the mouth of the cave, looking up at the night sky and glancing over to Spock every now and then. Jim hadn’t seen the renegade sneaking up behind him, about to shoot him, but Spock had. He’d gotten Jim out of the way, but hadn’t been so lucky himself. Jim had stayed down until the renegades left, tricking them into thinking he too, was unconscious. He had then carried Spock with him here (after thanking whatever deity was up there for the blood he’d gotten from Kahn; Vulcans were heavier than they looked but it’d been easy for him to deadlift his First) to await a beam-up. Communications had been messed with so they were still trying to get a strong enough signal to get a confirmed location. Jim checked on his First Officer again, maybe not so much checked on him as admired him for the hundredth time. 

He looked so peaceful in his sleep, flickers in his eyes and soft wrinkles in brow he got whenever he was worried never suited him, Jim had decided. He looked back to the stars and decided that even they couldn’t compare to Spock’s grace. All of Spock was beautiful, his slender frame and hands, his pale skin, and fluffy black hair that Jim wanted to run his hands through just to feel it. Don’t even get him started on his eyes. Big and a rich chocolate brown. They held everything Spock tried to hide, a story of triumph and tragedy, and were far more mysterious than anything in the cosmos. Yet, like the galaxy, Jim wanted to know them more than anything.

A sharp inhale cut Jim out of his train of thought. He looked over to Spock, who was looking around. His eyes were hazy with confusion and he was propped up on his elbows instead of sitting up, but he was conscious nonetheless. A small burst of alarm went through Jim when Spock forced himself into a sitting position and he winced as he did so, tucking his hand to the right side of his chest and pulling it away again as if he were checking for blood.

“Spock, you alright? You took a pretty hard hit,” Jim sat down beside him.

“I am fine,” despite his assurance, Spock’s voice was rough, “Are you of adequate health as well?”

Jim nodded, “Thanks to you, yeah. Just a few bruises. But I think you could be better.”

“I am fine, Capitan,” Spock’s eyes were gentle but tired. They held a depth Jim could get lost in.

Jim looked to where his friend was keeping his hand at about the middle of his ribcage, “Spock, you’re not fine.”

Jim knew he sounded like McCoy, but he just wanted to help.

“There is nothing that can be done nor am I in a critical condition.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jim remarked, “Critical or not, what’s wrong? You got shot with a phaser and have been out cold for a solid 3 hours. What is it?”

Spock practically sighed, “It is merely a phaser burn, Capitan.”

Jim furrowed his brow, “Maybe it is, but if there’s anything I remember from the academy and Bones, it’s that phaser injuries aren’t a joke. Here, let me see it.”

Spock crossed his arms tightly over his chest as if he were trying to protect himself, “All due respect Capitan, but that is not necessary.”

Spock didn’t want to cause any problems for Jim, let alone make himself an object of concern. He shunned the part of himself for wanting it, wanting to be cared about. He didn’t deserve love and care. Let alone from Jim. But he was right. He wasn’t fine. And it wasn't just the burn under his shirt, as much as it hurt, as much as the smoldering pain made him want to fall back into unconsciousness, that wasn't what bothered him the most. Because he hadn’t been fine for a long time. He'd never been truly happy in his youth, nor comfortable in his teens. Even now, as he was away from Sarek and Vulcan, he felt alone. Like he'd never been apart of something, and he never could. He was undoubtedly not fine. He wondered if he ever would be. If he went on like this, he certainly wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and sorry that this took so long. I have rewritten this chapter and the next almost 5 times. Anyway, this was meant to be apart of the next chapter, or rather the next chapter apart of this one, but it would be too long (the next chapter is still a bit long but what the hell) for my liking and it's taking forever, so here we are. Again, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Happy Holidays.


	8. Your Cold Sometimes, With A Lot Of Bite

Jim didn’t want to force Spock into an uncomfortable situation, so when he couldn’t think of a reason other than that he wanted to take care of him, Jim had stopped asking to look at Spock’s wound. They had come to sit at the mouth of the cave, looking out into the darkness, and Spock, up at the sky. The wind had faded into the background, silence drowning out sound. A heaviness hanging over them. Uncharted space between them, unknown and daunting. A terrifying sort of beauty made up of the words neither person was saying. 

Spock hated silence. He always had. It reminded him of the loneliness that was drowning out the light inside him. The last moments of everyone he loved. The soundless room he materialized in after his mother fell to her death, the blankness of Pike’s mind as he faded out. The suffocating quiet in his own head as Jim went still and his eyes became glassy. He hated silence. With everything in him, he hated it. He didn’t care what it was replaced with. As long as it was something, anything.

Jim wanted to say something. The words were on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. 3 simple words, they would take all of a fleeting moment to say. He just didn’t know how to say them or why it was so hard. He’d said it dozens of times before. 

_ “It’s because this time, it’s real,” _ he reminded himself.

This wasn’t the product of one too many drinks or cocky flirting. It wasn’t a pretty girl batting her eyelashes at him, and him playing along. This wasn’t a one night stand that would end before it began. This was love, real love. Something in him that made him warm whenever he saw Spock, like he was home. The feeling of reassurance that just seeing his First Officer brought up in him.

What Spock said on the anniversary of his death had been playing over and over in his mind.

_ “I am wasting your sacrifice.” _

But Jim knew he wasn’t. He just couldn’t find a way to tell him that the half-Vulcan would really believe the words coming from his mouth. He didn’t know how to get Spock to understand that he was worth everything and more. He didn’t know how to get Spock to speak. To stop hiding and show just how much he had to offer outside of statistics and facts. He didn’t know how to get Spock to hear him. 

“What you did today,” Jim piped up, getting Spock’s attention, “Thank you. I owe you one.”

“You are welcome. However, as your First Officer, it is my duty, therefore you do not owe me anything.” 

Jim let out a sigh, “Spock, can I ask you about something?”

“Paradoxically, you just did,” Spock said flatly.

Jim let out a small laugh, “I guess so.”

“But, uh, anyway,” Jim was trying to think of a way to say what he needed to, “I just noticed that you’ve been… quiet. And I was just wondering if you’re okay. I know I asked you before, and maybe it’s just me, but I feel like there’s something you’re not saying.”

Spock seemed confused, “Could you elaborate on your query?”

Jim took a deep breath, understanding the only way to get the answer he needed was to be straightforward, “2 nights ago you said something about wasting my sacrifice but stopped before I could really understand what you were getting at. I guess I’m just wondering if the reason why you’ve been a bit quiet lately had something to do with it.”

Spockavoided his gaze, “I understand.”

“I apologize, I was unaware that I was causing you any distress.”

Soft lines came to rest between Jim’s eyebrows, “Spock, you’re not bothering me. You’re part of my crew, I’m going to make sure you’re doing okay whether you like it or not.”

“I am capable of caring for myself,” Spock’s voice was soft and quiet, maybe he was capable, but he still wanted the feeling of being cared for more than anything, “I can assure you that I am alright.”

_ “Liar,” _ Spock told himself. The words and the guilt stung like they had the last time he’d lied to Jim, maybe even worse than before. Who would spend time trying to help someone who couldn’t speak the truth? No matter what the cause, dishonesty is dishonesty. Who could love a liar?

A warm, secure hand on Spock’s shoulder made him tense as he looked to Jim who had a sweet kind of sadness in his eyes, “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think that’s true.”

Of course, Jim could see straight through him. See the deceiving vermin he was. The heartless man, too stupid to do anything with it. Too stupid to understand that he would never be more than he was and that what he was had nothing to show. In a sense, seeing through him meant seeing nothing. Because that’s what he was. Purposeless and unloveable.

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” Jim’s tone was soft, he didn’t want to pry, but something had to give, he knew that much, “You can’t fight forever, and definitely not alone.”

Spock was quiet for a moment, “I am aware.”

And unlike what he had said moments before, that was not a lie. It was entirely honest, more honest than anything he’d ever said. Because he was aware, so aware it kept him up at night. He knew he couldn’t fight forever. He knew he’d be overtaken, in a way, he already had been. Yet he also knew that fighting alone had fewer casualties than fighting in the company of others. It was more difficult and the only way to avoid a hit was to dodge it, which only became harder and harder with every slash at his failing armor, but he’d never have to suffer watching the eyes of another friend still as their blood grew cold.

“Then what is it?”

Spock uncomfortably pulled at his sleeves, “I simply wish to keep you out of harm’s way, Capitan. It is nothing of great importance.”

“Don’t Capitan me right now, Spock,” Jim’s brows knitted, “There’s something else going on, I can tell. What’s bothering you?”

A familiar feeling dug into Spock’s stomach. Asking him to speak. To be heard. To know that there wasn’t really any shame in hurting nor feeling.

Spock bit at the inside of his lip, “I do not want to cause you any discomfort.”

In a way, that was his answer. Because when it came down to it, the reason why he was hurting, why it felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts and emotions, it was because he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. He didn’t want to say something if he knew that somebody else knowing he was in pain, would put them in pain. He was well versed in the cycle of suffering, it was vicious and persistent. It took great strength to overcome, strength that was not achievable should the one trying to muster it stand alone. And Spock, Spock stood alone. Solitary and forlorn, by choice, however. He figured that since he’d chose to do so, he couldn’t complain about the pain it brought him.

As for Jim, it was the first time that it hit him.

“You’re scared of hurting people?”

Spock gave a stiff nod, “And as I am at high risk for doing so with you, I do not suggest spending your concern on my person. I am capable of caring for myself and do not require assistance.”

Ironically, the words made Jim’s very soul ache. He didn’t know if there was anything much sadder than someone thinking that they weren’t deserving of love, whatever their reasoning may be. As for Spock, he knew, without a doubt in his mind, that he deserved to be loved and cared for. Just because he could take care of himself didn’t mean he had to. 

“I care about you more than anything. I love you, Spock. I love you so much.”

Spock looked shocked, his brow knitted slightly before he turned his head away looking at the ground, “You should not.”

“What?” the comment took Jim by surprise, “Why shouldn’t I?”

“You do not deserve that sort of destiny,” Spock’s voice was quiet, melancholy that snuck past his shields dripping into it.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone I have loved is dead or has died, Jim. You do not deserve such a fate, not again.”

Jim didn’t know what it was that came over him. A sort of force, protective yet gentle. A calling. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d already had his arms around his First Officer, holding him tightly in a very human embrace.

“I love you, and I would risk everything, in life or death, if it meant being with you.”

Spock didn’t recognize this feeling. His own or the one pouring off his Capitan. It was warm and welcoming. Caring and kind. It was breaking him. Picking at the seams of his soul. The ones that had been torn against for years, clawed into shreds over such a short period of time as of late. The ache in him. He always underestimated it as it hid its wings beneath the darkness of his mind.

The quiet ache in his heart whispered to him once again.

And it broke him.

He bowed his head into Jim’s shoulder and let himself be ripped apart. Bit by bit. String by string. The messy stitches he’d tried to fix his shattered self with. He let himself bleed, he let himself hurt. He let himself be heard. A leap of faith, one into the unknown, into his greatest fear. His fear of being known, of being cared for.

Jim kept his hold all the while, his fingers intertwining with ebony black hair as thick eyelashes, wet with tears, brushed against his neck. The sound of Spock’s breathing, heavier than normal, but quiet nonetheless. It was Spock at his purest, a delicate soul behind mile-high walls, soft with sharp edges. Like the warmth of home even in the depths of space, like a song over silence, drifting through the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. So, the next chapter is the last one and if you have anything you'd like to see in it then just leave it in the comments or on my Tumblr (I'll leave the link below and you can also find it in my profile). But yeah, I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Tumblr link: https://spocksbrowneyes.tumblr.com/


	9. Just One Smile Keeps Me Satisfied

A knocking at the door brought Spock out of his light meditation. His eyes fluttered open as he stood. He swayed a bit as he did so, a veil of tiredness hung over him.

Spock opened the door to see Jim on the other side, “Capitan. Hello.”

“Hi, and it’s Jim, you know that.”

Spock nodded, “Can I assist you?”

“No,” Jim shrugged, “I’m actually here to check on you.”

Spock tugged a bit at the sleeves of his hoodie, “I am fine.”

Jim smiled, “That’s good.”

Spock realized he was being a bit rude just not inviting him inside, “Would you like to come in?”

“If it’s okay with you, sure.”

\---

Jim had situated himself at the desk chair, and Spock was sitting criss-cross on his bed. 

“How’s your wound?” Jim asked, noticing that Spock still had placed a protective hand over the area.

“It is healing adequately,” Spock reported.

Despite the lack of personal objects in the room, the atmosphere was almost comforting. Jim didn’t know if it was just that he was in a particularly good mood, maybe he was just happy that Spock was alright. It probably was about Spock, he’d honestly been scared that he was just going to make a fool out of himself when he chose to tell Spock how he felt, but it’d gone well, better than he could have hoped. He looked around the room when his eyes fell on a medium-sized wooden instrument in a box placed just beside Spock’s bed.

He pointed to it, “What’s that?”

Spock looked at it, “It is a Vulcanian lyre.”

“I’m assuming you know how to play?”

Spock nodded, “Yes.”

Jim couldn’t help but imagine Spock when he was a kid, learning how to do something. He had so much knowledge on a plethora of fronts and was skilled at everything he did. Somehow, thinking that he ever had to learn, it was a strange idea to Jim. Also, a slightly ironic one as Spock was a scientist when he wasn’t following Jim through hell and back, making the very definition of his job to learn and understand.

“Could you play it?”

Spock was confused about how this question differed from the previous one, “Pardon?”

Jim shrugged, “Y’know, can you play it?”

It clicked in Spock’s mind somewhat lethargically that Jim was asking for him to play for him.

“Would you find it pleasing?”

Jim nodded, “I don’t know why I wouldn’t.”

Spock retrieved the instrument, returning to his prior position and resting the instrument on his lap. He was still for all of a moment before he started to pluck at the strings. It began quiet but evolved into something greater, notes forming into a song.

The entrancing melody was familiar to Jim. Haunting yet calming, beautiful but raw. His gaze fell on Spock, who was watching his hands, tracking his own movements. The song and instrument told a story all by themselves. The sound spoke of time and practice, determination, and persistence. The lyre told its tale in the light scuffs on the wood, speaking of time and love. The light green stain of the strings beckoned pain and grief, sacrifices both failed and successful. And then there was Spock, who gave both objects their meanings through his own. The meaning Jim couldn’t describe, for there were no words that could express it. He was a paradox, a logical mind in with the heart of a poet, the endless life given by a dying star. 

The song faded as softly as it came, Spock looked up cautiously through his bangs.

“You’re really good at that,” Jim complimented him.

Spock blushed a bit, “Thank you.”

He set the lyre back in the box, clasping his hands in an almost uncomfortable manner. He wasn’t sure what to do, he never really was. However, this time, the weight of what they had spoken of back in the cave rested like a canopy over them. Not particularly unwanted, but constantly making itself known in how it changed the space.

“Capitan?”

“Jim,” the blond corrected, “Just Jim.”

“I feel that I owe thanks for your words during our last away mission. They were quite… comforting,” Spock said quietly.

“I hoped they would be,” Jim smiled softly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you all that for a while now. I guess I just never found the right time until then. But I meant it. Every last word.”

“As did I.”

There was a warm feeling at Jim’s very core, just listening to his voice, looking at him, it was like going home. Like everything he had ever done was in pursuit of Spock, from getting into that bar fight to cheating on the Kobayashi Maru. As if the only reason Kahn's blood had been able to bring him back was because leaving Spock behind simply wasn’t an option.

“Can I kiss you?”

Spock’s eyes widened a fraction, the green of his cheeks flushing a bit deeper, “If you desire it, you may.”

Jim closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Spock’s gently. The half-Vulcan’s lips were soft and cool, as was the rest of his skin. The kiss was nothing ferocious, nothing aggressive. It was delicate and vulnerable, welcoming rather than assertive. 

The quiet that came as no words were said, unlike the others Spock had experienced, it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t the daunting sort he was so familiar with. It was kind and forgiving, like all the people he loved. The gentle ache, it didn’t hurt now. It was soft and warm. He let himself relax into the kiss, his fingers finding Jim’s and resting the pads of their index and middle fingers together.

For the first time, Spock didn't mind the quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading. So, that was the last chapter. Yay. This is probably the longest a fic has ever taken me to write, and one of the few that I'm kind of proud of. I want to thank all of you because your comments and kudos really helped me keep going, you're all so amazing. I'm not sure what my next fic will be, I've thought about some more multi-chapter ones but I also have a crap-ton of WIPs that I haven't touched and should probably finish. If you have a request or idea, you can leave it on my Tumblr (I'll put the link in below) where all of my guidelines are (ex. what I will and won't do). I'd love to hear from you. Anyway, thanks again for all the support and just reading. I wish you all the best of luck.
> 
> https://spocksbrowneyes.tumblr.com/


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